


Jealous

by ndnickerson



Category: Nancy Drew - Keene
Genre: Alternate Canon, F/M, Jealousy, Pre-Canon, Prom, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-28
Updated: 2009-12-28
Packaged: 2017-10-05 10:11:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/40566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ndnickerson/pseuds/ndnickerson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nancy shows up to her junior prom wearing a sexy black number, and without Ned.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Jealous

The lights were low and Nancy's hair hung in gold strands, curled slightly toward her face at the ends, the red highlights shining as she tilted her head. She was making eyes at someone, but that someone happened to be the defensive tackle of the River Heights football team.

Ned glared at her perfect, slim fingers, which only a few days before had held his class ring. His ultimatum had been, as always, that she give up those stupid mysteries that took up her every free moment, and especially to stop making eyes at Greg Creely.

And so now the ring was back on Ned's finger.

Nancy's arms were bare except for a single silver bracelet, a bauble he hadn't given her. He remembered that it had been a gift from her father. The straps on her prom dress were thin, the bodice clung to her chest with a death grip of which Greg was especially appreciative, Ned noticed. The black gown flared a little at the ankle but otherwise emphasized every other curve Nancy had. Ned remembered passing an very positive judgement on it, and had looked forward to seeing it on her. But not from across the room.

He didn't need this. Not from some lowly junior. He was going away to college in a few months and he didn't need a long-distance relationship or any of these complications. But he still couldn't take his eyes off her.

He spun Cheryl Ames around in his arms and she giggled at him a little. Her dress was equally as stunning; her cheerleading-toned muscles and sun-kissed skin pulled off the plunging neckline and hip-hugging blue gown off beautifully.

The song ended and each pulled back their date, retreated to a table and commenced to try and make the other jealous. Nancy fed Greg a piece of cake with her polished fingertips, and Ned leaned close to Cheryl, talking to her and brushing a stray strand of her hair back every few minutes. Out of the corner of his eye he watched Nancy fume, and smiled inwardly as she pulled Greg to his feet and stalked back out onto the dance floor, barefoot.

"More punch, darling?" Ned asked, and when Cheryl nodded enthusiastically Ned picked up her glass and headed across the floor, making certain to bump into Nancy and Greg on the way.

"Watch it, Nickerson," Greg growled.

"I'd watch myself if I were you," Ned said back, then patted him on the shoulder as though they'd had a friendly pregame pep talk. "She's a tiger."

He was ladling some yellow punch into Cheryl's glass when a fingertip poked him in the back of the shoulder, and he turned around to see the woman of his dreams fuming up at him.

"What do you think you're doing, muscling on my date?"

"Nothing, darling, nothing," Ned said calmly, his eyes dancing evilly at her. He deftly switched the glass to his left hand while patting his pocket with his right. "As a matter of fact, Cheryl and I were thinking about leaving..."

Nancy's eyes narrowed. "She's no virgin."

Ned leaned down, casually. "All the better," he whispered, his breath ruffling her hair and sending chills down her spine.

"She'll tell everyone if you don't perform," Nancy said sweetly, a touch too loud, and Ned grabbed her arm a little more firmly than he intended. She bit her lip and kept from crying out.

"I'm sick of you not having any free time. I was your boyfriend, for Pete's sake, and if it wasn't Chemistry homework, it was whoever embezzled money from the bank. I want time for us, damn it."

Nancy yanked her arm away. "Listen, Ned, this is what I think I want to do with the rest of my life. Be a journalist. Not like Brenda," Nancy motioned over her shoulder at the aforementioned, who was wearing a low-cut red number and dancing drunkenly against another member of the football team, "but serious, like Ann Granger. This isn't a hobby, and if you really want to be with me you'd understand that."

Ned shook his head and stared down at her seriously. "Nancy," he murmured, putting his hand back on her arm, "I'm going off to college in a few months, and I think it's going to be Eliot. That's over five hours' drive. I don't see Carson letting you come up and see me, and I want something beyond a 'maybe next weekend' from you every time I suggest we do something. Please," he said, and his face was so sincere that Nancy was forced to look away.

He felt her fingertips against his own and looked down to see her tugging the class ring from his finger. It slid off and she considered it a moment in the low lighting, watching the facets in the blue stone shine and cast little diamonds among those of the disco ball. She closed her eyes a second, then slid the ring onto her own finger and reached up to twine her arms around his neck.

"I did miss you, you know," Nancy murmured, up on her tiptoes to whisper into his ear.

"If I hadn't, I'd be running to get out of here. Cheryl's nice enough but I’d be more entertained talking to a brick."

They moved back to their dates but, at the opening notes of the next slow song, moved into each other's arms like it was the most natural thing in the world. Nancy danced with her head against his chest, moving to the slow shuffle of his feet, her weight drowsy. She looked over his shoulder and smiled at Bess, who was dancing with Don Cameron, a guy Nancy had dated a while and decided she didn't like all that much. But Bess was taking it well, and Nancy was happy for her.

"How far were you going to take this little game?" Ned breathed in her ear as they turned a corner of the dance floor.

With some effort Nancy raised her head and looked up into his eyes. "What?" she managed, her eyes half-lidded, drowsed in the dim lights and soft music.

"Does Greg have a hotel key in his pocket?" Ned spelled out.

Nancy breathed a sigh into the back of her hand, then put her head back on his shoulder. "Yeah," she replied, softly. "Dad doesn't expect me back until some time late tomorrow morning."

There were a few fast dances, and the ubiquitous YMCA, before Nancy could get back into Ned's arms for another dance. His hand drifted down her bare back and she shivered a little and looked up into his eyes. His own were glowing.

"What say we blow this joint?" he breathed into her ear, and she felt the key in his hand.

She smiled softly and twined her arm through his, whispering, "Yeah... after I finish cleaning up."

"You're not," Ned groaned.

"But I am," she whispered into his ear, settling back into his arms for the rest of the dance. "Ahh, the perks of being on Prom Committee."

After swinging around with her a few more times and making sure everyone else on the dance floor was similarly occupied, he began to trail his lips down Nancy's neck, down past her collarbone to her shoulder. She squirmed a little in his arms and a reprimand came to her lips, but then both of them heard a not-so-quiet gasp from the left and turned to see Cheryl Ames, her heavily-plastered brunette bun shaking in barely-disguised anger. After that, Nancy couldn't find it in her to complain, especially not when Ned lowered his mouth down to hers.

Nancy and Ned had made out before, but Nancy felt something different about it from the beginning. Ned kissed her chastely, lightly, then harder, one of his hands brushing lightly against her bare back on its way to her neck. She shivered again under that touch against her suddenly hypersensitive skin and tilted her head back farther, whispering something against his mouth as her tongue darted out of its own volition and met his own doing the same thing. They were barely moving to the music now, barely swaying, but their bodies were radiating heat through the thin cotton of their formal wear and Nancy's heels put her hips on level with his. She reached up and tangled a hand in his hair as he began to tilt his head back and forth, his tongue teasingly thrusting in lightly and then retreating, until she finally took his head in both her hands and held him to her. Ned mumbled something back in pleasure and used his other hand to trail down her back again, a little past her hip, where he slowly led her body close to his, closer. The song had ended but the disk jockey put on another slow one and no one noticed that Nancy and Ned had never really parted between songs.

Nancy took a short, trembling breath as her beloved dotted kisses down her neck, both of them desperately needing to breathe after that last kiss. His thumb was trailing a circle against her hip, but their bodies were so close that-- oh, dear God, she was trembling at the feel of his arousal against her. She glanced around quickly, mortified that someone might notice, but at that second he was trailing his hands back up to her hair, Nancy's lungs already burning in expectation and arousal as his mouth closed against hers again. His hips shifted in time with the music and Nancy moaned openly into his mouth, feeling with horror as her legs opened slightly, pressing her hips harder into him. He was responding again; Nancy felt his hands press harder into her skin as they slid up and down her bare back, felt her loose breasts and tight nipples grow tender with expectation. She could barely believe what she was doing as she reached down to grab one of his hands, led it slowly up the front of her gown to cup over her breast. She felt the skin of his palm through the fabric of her gown, so close against her, and reached up to bring his beautiful face down to hers, the slow, erotic thrusts of his tongue against her own nearly setting her dizzy before he gently traced a slow circle over her breast.

The song ended abruptly, at least for Nancy and Ned.

"Oh God," Nancy whispered aloud, her eyes still closed, her hips rocking slightly against the feel of him. She thought of the hotel key in his pocket and licked her lips, tremblingly, opening his eyes to see that he was staring at her reddened mouth with hot, dark eyes.

"Ned," she mumbled, staring at his mouth in return.

He took a deep breath. "I really need a cigarette, how about you?" he finally managed.

"Dying for one," she murmured, her voice trembling and husky.

They raced for the balcony together, their hands tangled up hard and he hit the door, and out they flew, giggling, into the smoking area, where the aristocrats and lower-class alike all blew Camel-filtered smoke rings into the air. Ned, his fingers tangled around hers, led her to the rail. The stars were hard distant points of brilliance above them, in the cold air. He slipped his arm around her shoulders and they stood in silence, punctuated by the soft chuckles and comments of the other smokers. Ned reached into his tuxedo pocket and withdrew a pack of Camels, tapped one against the pack and offered it to Nancy, who took it and, watching his eyes carefully, slid it slowly between her reddened lips. Ned let out a slow, measured breath before he took one of his own. Geoff offered her a light, and as she took her first drag she let her veins relax and stop pumping all of her blood to her abdomen. Ned held his cigarette against hers until the glow matched, and then took his own first drag, his eyes sowing shut in delight.

"I've never seen you smoking before," Jeremy Pratt, a lowly freshman, leaned over to Nancy to mumble.

Nancy hoped to hell she was back to normal, or else she'd have to borrow Ned's suit jacket. Opening her eyes and praying that everything was fine, she opened her mouth to make some snide comment, but reconsidered. She drew off another one and held it in her lungs while she mumbled to him, "I really need to quit."

"Thought you came with Creely," Jeremy said to Nancy, barely lowering his voice.

She shrugged. "He wasn't... satisfying me," Nancy said languidly, not daring to glance over her shoulder and see Ned shooting some sort of incredulous look at her. Jeremy snickered and went back to his cigarette, and Ned pulled her to face him. She could feel the railing cold against her back, and then he leaned down and kissed her.

"That true?"

She looked up into his eyes and he traced his fingertips down the side of her face. She smiled, then. "He definitely can't kiss the way you do."

He smiled and she memorized the lines of his face in the moonlight. Eliot was a lifetime away. He had been right; nothing was solved by this. He'd be away, and he would meet girls who could pay more attention to him, more attention than she'd ever be able to. The ring on her finger was no engagement ring.

She reached up then and pulled him down to her and he kissed her hard. The hair at the nape of his neck was soft against her fingers. He swept her up in his arms, off her feet, and the sky, the stars, everything was spinning when he pulled back.

"What just happened?" he whispered, loud enough that only she could hear him. She noticed just then that his shoulders were trembling, but only a little.

"I don't know," Nancy replied softly, staring at his face. "But it..." she closed her eyes. "It felt good," she whispered finally.

"Yeah," he breathed, his voice husky, pitching the remains of his cigarette over the balcony before he turned back to her. His eyes trailed down and up her body again, just as they had when he had first walked in with Cheryl on his arm, and Nancy had to detach herself for fear she would lead him out to her car, out to the hotel...

Nancy absentmindedly flicked the ashes from the tip of her cigarette and took another long drag, throwing it out only after Ned had offered her his arm again and gestured to the waiting dance floor. The warmth roiling in her lungs slid out quietly as she walked back through the glass doors, and by the time she reached the dance floor with her boyfriend, only the smell clung to her dress. Another fast one, thank God; she didn't think she could take another slow one.

Bess and Nancy made a bathroom escape when the disk jockey called another. On the way Nancy whispered into Bess's ear about what had happened, and her friend turned to her with sparkling eyes.

"Just remember, it's statutory in this state," Bess whispered, giggling as Nancy good-naturedly swatted at her. They pulled open the door to the bathroom.

When the door opened again, Cheryl's voice carried clear against the porcelain tiles. "Bastard," she muttered, whispering to some girl whose long red dress trailed against the floor. "You'd think he'd have enough decency to even give me a ride home..."

"The gall. I can't believe he just used you to get in..."

Cheryl turned on the unidentified friend. "No one uses me," Cheryl hissed dangerously, "not even lowlife quarterbacks from our rival school..."

By then Nancy was ready to leave, but was a little afraid of what would happen, should Cheryl corner her in the tiny room. Finally she flushed the toilet and the stall door creaked open.

"Nancy," Cheryl spat by way of greeting, her heavily-kohled eyes narrowed.

"Cheryl," Nancy said just as cheerfully.

Cheryl smiled, and Nancy saw her eyes light up, malicious. "I saw you out there, feeling him up," Cheryl said, not at all softly. "You looked like his whore."

"Didn't let you get close to him, did he, Cheryl," Nancy said quietly, a small smile on her lips. Bess emerged from her stall and gave Nancy a brief thumbs-up before washing her hands.

"Get a room," Cheryl mocked. "We don't want to see that."

"Like hell," Nancy said. "You wish you were in my place, you wish you were the one he wanted."

Two freshmen poked their heads in and instantly recognized the posture of two upper-class girls about to have it out in the ladies' room. One stayed to watch while the other spread the word.

"I've seen better-looking freshmen," Cheryl snarled.

"You've never seen anyone as good-looking as Ned and you know it."

"I've had far better." Cheryl spat that out like a pseudo-trump card.

Nancy's lips curled slightly upward, and Bess felt a little sorry for the poor girl. Another two girls squeezed into the tight space of the bathroom as Nancy murmured, just loud enough to echo off the porcelain tiles and reach every female ear in the room, "I've heard that you would've had Adam Carter, but he couldn't get it up for you, could he..."

The light in Cheryl's eyes wasn't nearly as bright now.

"You had no trouble with the rest of the football team, did you? Or even half the Mapleton team, right? Wasn't Ned the only guy who ever refused to go out with you?" Nancy was circling now, her own eyes narrowed, predatory.

"Not anymore. He's even got a room at the Hilton registered for us tonight."

"Ahh, yes," Nancy said, tapping her chin, her tone making Cheryl's grin falter. "And this would, perhaps, be the key?"

"Give that to me, bitch," Cheryl snarled, reaching out for the thin plastic card.

"Nope," Nancy shook her head, obviously enjoying the spectacle. "I do believe that maybe... yes, I remember now, I was planning on doing more than feeling him up tonight, with this key. Thanks for the suggestion."

Cheryl made a desperate grab for it again, but Nancy backed off, away from the extremely pissed girl. Her balance was impeccable as she and her stilettos headed for the door.

She stopped there and, unable to resist, shot over her shoulder: "I'm sure Ned won't mind if I get a copy of the tape made for you..."

Cheryl's enraged roar followed Nancy and Bess out of the restroom as they collapsed in a fit of giggles, much to the consternation of the ten or so upper-class girls standing outside the revolving doors, acting like they had been doing anything besides eavesdropping.

"You sure toasted her, Nan," Bess said between giggles.

"Yeah," Nancy said, her hand snaking up the slit in her skirt to the waistband of her pantyhose, which held her hotel key for safekeeping. Thank God Ned hadn't discovered the slit yet; Nancy's breath almost grew quick just thinking about it. "Where is that boy..." Nancy mumbled, barely registering as Bess found her date and dragged him onto the dance floor. Ned sat at their claimed table, draining a glass of the horribly-colored yellow punch.

"Heard there was some sort of incident in the restroom," Ned remarked mildly, setting down the plastic tumbler. "You involved?"

"Always," Nancy said, flashing him a brilliant smile which quickly turned into concern as he bent at the waist. His large, warm hands found her foot, and she only let her thoughts wander for a nanosecond before jerking herself back to reality. "What are you doing?"

"Every other girl has her shoes off," Ned said, gesturing to the dance floor. Nancy didn't bother looking; she knew it was true.

She shook her head impatiently. "Stand up," she mildly ordered him, and when he had risen to his full height she stepped toward him, softly brushing the side of her hip against his. "We're... even... this way," she explained, staring up at his eyes, which had turned hot and dark at the feel of her so close.

"Yeah... shoes stay on," he managed.

Another slow one started.

Nancy twined her arms up around his neck as soon as they were out on the dance floor again. His hands trailed down from her shoulders to her waist, which he wrapped his arms around and hung on tight. As soon as he began to nuzzle against her neck, the feel of her skin against his set off the trigger again, and Nancy tilted her head back in ecstasy at the intensity of his response. Her knee peeked demurely from the slit, and as Ned's eyes caught sight of that treat, he could only hope to slow his hand as it trailed down her side to reach her disappointingly stockinged leg. He hooked a finger against the end of the slit as he leaned down and kissed her again, and the higher his hand rose, the more intense his kiss became, until nearly all of Nancy's right leg was visible and the hand showed no signs of desisting. She let the instinct to open her legs take over, and the liquid arousal fermenting in her brain nearly exploded as he thrust his hips and erection lightly against her, her body rocking backward against his hands, her tongue sliding over the inside of his upper lip.

"Ned," she moaned, quietly, inside his mouth as his other hand slid down her leg, searching for a matching slit on the other side. "There isn't one," she whispered, and he groaned in disappointment, which only seemed to be amended when he reached down and took her behind into his hands, guiding her hips back against his, sighing as both of them felt the electricity of touch. Nancy's fingers were trembling as she ran them through his hair, kissing him hard and gasping as he thrust just a little harder against her. She broke off and, panting, buried her face against the side of his neck.

He slid his hands slowly up to the small of her back and she groaned, pathetically unable to move her hips away from his, away from the overwhelming responses her body had to his arousal. Her legs opened a little more and she nearly panted in relief, her back arching as he trailed circles against the skin with his fingers.

"Nancy?" he whispered, his voice husky, rasping.

"Hmm?" Nancy mumbled back, her eyes sewn shut, her hips rocking lightly against his.

"I don't—think we can—" Ned stopped, unable to complete his sentence as their hips locked together again, his breath coming in short gasps as the ache beneath his navel grew more distinct. The last bars of the song ended, and the disk jockey called for a break.

Ned swore under his breath, then looked down into his girlfriend's eyes. "Walk back to the table in front of me," he whispered to her, pleadingly, his heart sinking at the glint in her eyes even as she nodded agreement.

He threaded their fingers together, his arms around her waist as they made their way back to the table, just as insurance she wouldn't get away, but she even twisted that against him. She stopped to talk to nearly every couple, it seemed; and just when Ned thought that maybe he was relaxing, Nancy would "accidentally" back up and bump against him, so that when they were nearly there and she did the same thing he actually groaned aloud.

Moving his face next to her ear, he whispered softly, "You do that again and I'll.."

"You'll what?" Nancy whispered, her voice inviting.

"Anything," he whispered, nibbling down her neck to her collarbone. She backed into him again and bent her trembling knees a little, felt the renewed pressure of his erection against her and the gentle needles of his incisors in her skin.

They moved to sit down and Ned, while letting her extricate herself from his grasp, "accidentally" let his hand brush against one of her tight nipples. Her head shot up and she smiled wickedly at him, her tongue barely peeking out from between her lips to slide slowly along the bottom.

"Bet you wish you'd never even heard of prom committee," Ned said smugly.

"We could be walking into the room at the Hilton," Nancy murmured for his ears alone, leaning forward and propping herself up with an elbow on their table. Her eyes glowed. "I'd get that jacket off you first, then the cummerbund, then the bow tie," she whispered slowly, watching his lips tremble.

"Then I'd get that dress off you," he whispered back to her, tracing his fingertips from her jaw down to her collarbone, to the plunging neckline of the dress, until the backs of his fingers barely brushed over her breast. "Kiss you until you started screaming," he murmured huskily to her, following the path of his fingers, letting his mouth barely close over her nipple through the fabric and pulling away after the butterfly touch. He stared full into her face, taking in the shut eyes and reddened, pouting mouth with a burst of pride. He had never done such things to her; and if she responded so well when their clothes were on...

He took a chance and trailed his fingertips down her stomach, stopping at her lap, then slowly sliding his hands to her hips. Her muscles tensed beneath his touch, her beautiful long lashes fluttering open, her chest heaving as she gasped for air. She started at his lips for several seconds before she seemed to regain her train of thought. "Vest and shirt next, if I haven't ripped your pants off by then," she whispered, feeling his hands twitch against her hips and not protesting as he slid her over into his lap. She walked her fingers down his broad chest and waist until she reached his lap, where she gently stroked the ready warmth she found there. She leaned forward, aching inside as she hugged her body to his, feeling his arousal build as her strokes became slower and harder.

"Rip off those damn pantyhose," he replied into her collarbone, sliding the slow caress of his hands down to her rear end.

"Don't forget the black lace panties," she groaned into his scalp, her pelvis trembling beneath his ministrations.

"God, Nancy," Ned whispered, reaching up and pulling her face down to his, almost groaning in relief as her hand slid from his lap to the back of his neck. While they both fought for breath afterward he trailed his lips down her chest to the plunge in her neckline, felt her breasts quiver beneath his touch.

If only they could leave...

Nancy remembered something and laced her fingers through his. "There's this little room," she whispered, panting softly.

The music began again as the door shut with a soft snicker behind them, but Ned had never cared less about anything in his life. He backed his girlfriend up against the wall and kissed her with total abandon, surprise crackling upward into his brain as she opened her legs fully to his insistent thrusts. He could imagine the warm hollow between her legs, raw, trembling, just waiting for him to sheathe himself inside her... he grew dizzy with arousal, kissing her harder, harder, trailing his lips down her neck while she tilted her head back, his hands finding the slit in her gown in record time and crawling up until he was cupping her bare breasts in his hands, savoring the feel of her erect nipples against his palms, the warm skin trembling beneath his touch. She was trying to whisper something to him, but she had no breath, especially not as his thumbs gently stroked the hard tips of her breasts back and forth, as his mouth reached the fabric of her gown.

She struggled a little before she let the straps fall halfway down her arms, and Ned eagerly caught her left breast in his mouth, barely hearing as she cried out in surprise at the strength with which he suckled, his tongue memorizing the taste and feel of her nipple. He moved to the other and the right one grew even harder as the air conditioner dried his saliva against her skin. Her hands reached down and led his own to the waistband of her pantyhose, amd she was already clenching and unclenching with the rhythm of his suckling.

"God," she whispered, savoring the feel of his fingertips against the bare skin of her hips. The gown was already gathered up above them, and as her breasts were exposed to the air again she felt him begin to peel down her pantyhose, leaving nothing but her flimsy black lace panties between him and her virginity.

"Ned," she murmured, lips trembling. "We have to stop..."

Ned drew himself up to standing again, but he let his fingers trail back up her bare skin, and every place he touched her seemed to burn with the agony of her frustration. One of his hands slowly, gently, slid between her legs, up until his palm was cupped against her, the other up so he could gently rub a thumb slowly over her nipple, even as she tried to draw the gown back up over her shoulders. She groaned and obeyed as her body told her the proper thing to do was part her legs as far as she could and gently, slowly, bend her knees, so that if he nudged aside the damp crotch of her panties, his fingers would be stroking her pulsing, wet flesh, barely soothing the ache she felt as she clenched, the wet folds of skin just bare centimeters from his fingertips and aching for their touch, her nipple growing raw the faster and harder he stroked it. The skin between her legs was so sensitive that as his thumb twitched slightly, the sensation hot-wired directly to her brain and she bent her knees a little more, reaching up to pull his trembling lips to her own.

He splayed his fingers as his tongue gently found its way into her mouth, his fingertips sliding under the elastic of her panties, and she groaned softly. She took her hands from behind his head and reached down, unzipping his pants in record time, sliding one of her hands in to feel the hot throb of his erection.

He pulled back from her in surprise and she drew herself back up to standing straight, leaning against the wall for support. Her clit had just barely been touching the rough fabric of her underwear; who knew what would have happened if he had moved a finger just a little to the left...

Shoving thoughts of that firmly from her head, she reached down and rolled her pantyhose back up her waist, making sure the key was still there. It had ended up somewhere around her knee, but that was all right, as long as she retrieved it without Ned in the room. She watched him zip back up and take a few long, cleansing breaths, and she made sure her dress was on straight before she looked back at his face. He looked utterly shaken.

"Did you..." he began, then shook his head, and tried again. "Did I hear you say no?"

Nancy nodded wordlessly.

"Did we go too far?"

Nancy took her own deep breath before replying. "I think..." she began, and then her body started to tremble, aching for him to finish what he had started. "You'll have to put a ring on my finger before we do anything remotely like that again," she said clearly, though her voice was trembling.

He pointed at the huge class ring on her finger, half-smiling. She glanced down and half-smiled too.

"Afraid you'll have to do better than that." She shoved herself off the wall and headed for the doorway, still a little unsteady on her feet. He leapt for the door and opened it for her, waiting until she had safely emerged before he adjusted his tie and followed her out into the disco ball reflection.


End file.
